Names
by xBleedingBlackRosex
Summary: He always came in at the same time, always ordered the same drink, always gave a different name to put on the cup...What happens when Blaine decides to play the same game?


**This idea struck me while at a coffee shop with Yelah. It ****_had_**** to be written.**

…

Somedays, Blaine was absolutely certain that he was doing it just to drive him insane.

Blaine met him his very first day at work. He'd managed to score a part-time job after school as a barista at the local coffee shop, the Lima Bean. He'd completed all of his training and was quick to get the hang of taking orders and preparing drinks with a smile on his face at all times. (He'd always been a rather social kind of guy, after all.) He knew at once that he would love this job.

But then _he_ walked in.

Their eyes met, and Blaine's face froze. His entire _body_ froze. This was no ordinary customer; this was an outright _supermodel_. He had artfully coiffed brown locks, beautiful glasz eyes, thin pink lips, and a tall, lean frame clad in something Blaine was sure he'd seen in the latest Vogue issue. His gaydar went haywire. _Keep it together_, he warned himself. _Don't hit on the customers. That's totally inappropriate. I'll get fired. Just stay cool..._

"Hi!"

His resolution promptly went up in flames the second he heard that angelic voice.

"Hey," he returned cheerfully, mirroring the boy's bright smile.

"Can I have a grande nonfat mocha, please?"

"I- uh," was Blaine's intelligent response. _Oh god. Snap out of it!_ He cleared his throat. "Of course. That'll be four-fifty." He rung up the order and grabbed an empty cup and Sharpie. "What's your name?"

"Alex," the brunette answered, handing over the correct amount. Blaine scribbled the name onto the cup – feeling a little conniving without quite knowing why – and quickly put the money into the cash register before turning to make the mocha. _I had to ask his name_, he defended. _I wasn't hitting on him. It was part of the job description. That's all. It's not like I asked for his number, too._

He turned to find Alex still standing there, smiling expectantly. It made his heart flip. Ignoring his body's reaction, he flashed back a smile of his own and handed over the drink with a cheerful, "Here you go! Have a nice day."

"You, too!"

And with that, Alex spun gracefully on his toe and all but drifted out of the coffee shop. Blaine stared after him with what was probably an idiotic, dazed expression, only snapping out of it when his coworker Carry appeared from the back room with the new coffee beans. He returned to the cash register.

But Alex kept cropping into his thoughts for the rest of the day.

…

The following afternoon, a Tuesday, Alex returned, flashing that same brilliant smile at him as if he was actually _glad_ to see him or something. It took all of Blaine's efforts to keep himself from beaming at him like a complete fool.

"A grande nonfat mocha?" Alex ordered again.

"Sure thing. That'll be four-fifty." He took Alex's money and grabbed a cup, adding, "Name?" even though he already knew the answer. He didn't want to come off as a creep, though, so he pretended he didn't remember.

"Taylor."

His Sharpie – already beginning the 'A' – faltered. _What?_ His smile twitched as he turned to study the boy's face closely. It was _definitely_ the same guy from the day previous. _What the hell? _Deciding to think about it later, he scribbled down the new name and handed it off to Carry to make, returning to the cash register to ring up the next customer. He watched from the corner of his eye as Carry handed over Alex's – Taylor's? – drink, and the boy nodded his thanks and departed. Blaine almost missed what the elderly man in front of him was ordering, too fixated as he was on watching the retreating back. _Who _are_ you?_

…

The next day, the same thing happened, only this time the name on the coffee cup was 'Jeffrey.' He could take it no more. As soon as he left, Blaine sidled up to Carry and asked her if she knew what the deal was.

"Oh, him?" she smirked knowingly, nodding towards the closing door. "Nobody knows his name. Most of us refer to him as Mocha Man. He's been coming here for like a year now, always getting the same friggin' mocha but never giving the same name twice. I didn't even know there were _that_ many male names!" Noticing a new customer, she moved to help her, leaving Blaine to temporarily get lost in his thoughts. He did not know why he was so curious. It wasn't like they'd exchanged more than the required questions and answers, and the passing greeting and goodbye. Yet he couldn't help it; there was an insuppressible urge within him to learn more, to find out the truth.

_Mocha Man, I'm going to figure out what your real name is if it's the last thing I do._

…

Blaine did not act immediately. He played along for the next couple of days. He did not work on weekends, but Carry had already informed him that Mocha Man hardly ever came in then either. For some reason, he was relieved to hear that. The following Monday, however, he finally made his move. The shop was fairly empty; there were no other customers in line. He took the money as normal, but he did not ask for a name. Instead, he wrote something onto the cup and set it aside for Carry to fill. She read it and stifled a snort. Mocha Man raised a delicate eyebrow, but said nothing.

Blaine watched him closely as Carry handed over the nonfat mocha and he read the cup.

_**Beautiful Eyes**_

The boy grinned widely, and Blaine saw the faint reddening of his cheeks as he turned and quickly headed outside, holding the coffee cup with both hands as if scared to drop it.

"So..." Carry turned to him with a snicker. "You like him?"

Blaine hesitated, his blood running cold.

Carry shook her head and held up a hand. "Don't answer that; I already know. Good luck, man. If you ever figure out his real name, tell me, okay?"

Blaine nodded, smiling in relief. Carry had not come off as homophobic, but in a town like this he could never be too careful. He was just glad his coworker did not think he was a freak of nature. To find out that she actually _supported_ him was a blessing.

…

The next day, Mocha Man's cup read _**Perfect Hair**_, which caused him to giggle and delicately flick his molded bangs back. The following afternoon's _**Flawless Skin**_ earned Blaine a wink. Then came_** Adorable Smile**_. And after that, _**Contagious Laugh**_. And on it went, for another whole week. He kept coming up with new things that he found attractive in the man, and gradually the brunette began to talk to him a bit more. Blaine found out that he went to William McKinley High, and that he had a step-brother on the football team, and that he was in his school's glee club. This last part pretty much sealed the deal. _Yep. I have a crush on him. A huge, big, fat crush. And I don't even know his name! This is just plain cruel._

But on the following Monday afternoon, he didn't come in for his normal mocha.

Blaine was startled by how much this bothered him. He tried to tell himself that it wasn't a big deal – he probably had to stay late at school, or was meeting up with friends somewhere, or had a lot of schoolwork – but he still felt skittish for his entire shift, head jumping up every time the bell above the door jingled. Carry took great joy in teasing him for it. He was almost depressed when he went home that evening without having seen his regular.

When Mocha Man returned the next day, he discovered that his unease had not been unfounded.

"What's that?" he asked, staring down at the boy's hand, outstretched to take his drink from Blaine.

"Hmm?" He looked down as well. A dark bruise was yellowing on his wrist. He quickly withdrew his arm, tugging his sleeve down self-consciously. "I- That- It's nothing. Don't worry about it."

And then Blaine managed to catch the look in his eye, and all the breath was knocked out of him. He _knew_ that look. He'd had that look on his own face just last year, after all. He knew that embarrassment, and pain, and frustration all too well.

_Bullying_.

Without making the conscious decision to do so, he reached out and tentatively covered Mocha Man's hands holding the coffee cup with his own, noting the slight flinch as their skin came into contact. "Hey..." he murmured. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Mocha Man bit his lip. "I-..." He clearly wanted to say something. But then he sighed, and gently pulled away. Blaine could see him shut down. "Yeah. I'm fine. Nothing I can't handle myself. Thank you for- for the coffee." He turned, but not before Blaine caught his whispered, "See you tomorrow, Blaine."

He remained immobile for a good two minutes after that.

_That was the first time he ever used my name..._

…

Mocha Man seemed fine the next day. Or at least, as fine as a teenage boy could be on a Wednesday afternoon. Carry was manning the cash register at the moment, but when she noticed the brunette's arrival, she tossed an empty cup to Blaine with a teasing smirk. He stuck his tongue out at her, gave Mocha Man a warm smile, and jotted down one word before making his nonfat mocha with practiced ease.

"You feeling better?" he asked before he could stop himself as he passed over the drink.

Mocha Man paused. He seemed to contemplate his answer, his head tilted endearingly to the side, eyes effortlessly hypnotizing Blaine. "Yes," he finally answered. "Thank you."

Blaine watched as the fashionista took a sip of his drink and began to leave. But then he held his cup up and read the inked word scrawled across the curved surface, and stumbled to a halt. Slowly, ever so slowly, he glanced back at Blaine, eyes wide, confused, flustered. He just smiled and gave a firm nod. After a moment, Mocha Man gave a tiny smile in return and continued out the door, fingers tracing over the penned word.

_**Courage**_

…

On Thursday, Mocha Man came in with a dark-skinned girl, clearly a friend of his. When they stepped up to the cash register, she did not miss the smiles the two boys exchanged, and Blaine saw her gaze zero in on his nametag.

"Ah, so _you're_ Coffee Guy!" she practically sang.

"I beg your pardon?" he frowned.

Mocha Man blushed and nudged the girl in her ribs. "Mercedes, shut up," he muttered. Then, slapping on his regular grin, he turned back to Blaine and said, "My normal, please. She'll have an iced frappuccino."

"You're right," the girl apparently named Mercedes stage-whispered as he rang up the order. "He _is_ cute!"

"Mercedes!" Mocha Man hissed. Blaine bit back his laughter as he saw his cheeks flush with embarrassment. Then what she said hit him. _Wait...He said I was cute?_ His fingers brushed over the Lima Bean regular's as he passed over the money, and Blaine did his best not to notice the electric shock he received from the contact. He quickly wrote 'Mercedes' on the girl's frappuccino and handed it off to Carry, making the brunette's mocha himself so that he could write '_**Graceful**_' on it.

"Here you go-"

"Wait!" Mercedes interrupted, bumping her friend out of the way with her hip and stealing his cup before Blaine could pass it over to him. She read it with a scrutinizing eye, then broke out into a grin. She nodded to Blaine in apparent approval before passing it over. "Damn, white boy, you _still_ haven't given him your name? It's been, like, a month!"

The 'white boy' just blushed and ushered her out of the shop, throwing a parting smile back at Blaine as they left.

He sighed and leaned heavily against the counter. _She's right_, he realized. It'd been four weeks since he started working at the Lima Bean. He thought he'd learn Mocha Man's name faster than this. But he enjoyed the challenge. The compliment-names clearly gave the boy at least a bit of joy, and Blaine had the lurking suspicion he did not get flattery very often. He was more than happy to change that.

…

Two more weeks passed. Mocha Man continued to come in every weekday after school, ordering his normal and smiling every time he got to read the new day's 'name' on his cup. Of course, they did not always meet. Sometimes he would come in when Blaine was in the back and Carry would serve him instead, or he would inexplicably miss a day (Blaine always suspected the worst, and was always relieved when he came in the next afternoon without any visible injuries), or one Friday when Blaine was too sick to come into work. Some days Mocha Man would bring a friend or two with him from his glee club, but for the most part he was always alone, dropping a new fact of his life for Blaine to mull over for the rest of his shift. Blaine did not know if he was doing it intentionally or not. Either way, he found himself painstakingly piecing together the little bits of this man's life together, eager to discover the final product.

And then, at long last, he was finally rewarded for his persistence.

Mocha Man arrived like any other weekday, drifting in from the light snowfall outside with pink cheeks and a stylish scarf wound around his neck. Blaine beamed over at him and grabbed a new cup and the Sharpie. Before he could start to write, however, he felt a soft, chilled hand over his. He looked up into those greenish blue eyes in confusion.

"Please...Let me..."

He could tell that the boy was nervous. But he handed the cup and Sharpie over wordlessly. The butterflies in his stomach duplicated. He watched in ecstatic disbelief as the brunette wrote something on the cup. _Please, please tell me that he's writing his real name..._

And then the cup and Sharpie were handed back to him. Blaine quickly turned it around in his hand to find the beautiful black calligraphic script. His heart spluttered to a stop in his chest.

_**Kurt Hummel**_

Below the name was a phone number.

His head snapped up to the sound of the bell above the door. Kurt was gone. He'd left without waiting to see Blaine's response. He didn't even get his drink. He'd come for the soul purpose of giving Blaine his number.

_This is it._

"Blaine?" He heard Carry's voice behind him. "Was that Mocha Man?" He did not answer. She grabbed his shoulder and yanked him around. "Blaine! What's going on with you?"

"Kurt." His voice was weak, strangled.

"What?" she frowned.

He yanked off his Lima Bean apron, tossing it carelessly at the back room's door and he sprinted out from behind the counter. He knew what he had to do. "His name!" he called over his shoulder. "It's Kurt!"

She gaped at him, then let out a whoop. "_Finally!_"

He burst through the doors out into the parking lot. He looked around frantically for that familiar brown hair, those mesmerizing glasz eyes, that smooth, pale skin.

_There!_

"Kurt!" he called out, dashing across the lot towards the boy, who froze just as he was about to get into the driver seat of a large black Navigator. He straightened up just as Blaine reached him, doubling over and trying to catch his breath.

"Blaine..." Kurt sounded unsure now, hesitant, even scared. "I'm sorry, I-"

"Will you come back in?" Blaine blurted. Then, collecting himself a bit more, he stood tall again and rephrased that. "I- I mean...Would you like to have coffee with me? As- As, you know...a date? Maybe?"

Kurt's eyes widened. But then his face split into the most beautiful of smiles. And Blaine could feel himself falling for him then and there, falling for the mysterious Mocha Man, falling for the timid boy who'd taken a chance on him and given his real name at last, falling for _all_ of him.

"I'd love to."

…

**GAH! These two...They're just too adorable for their own good.**

**I need to stop writing my fanfics in a coffee shop. It's going to my head I think...**

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


End file.
